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FOR 1940'S STAR, A VIOLENT END IN ROCKAWAY

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Sid Tanenbaum gained fame on the basketball court, throwing two-handed set shots for New York University in the mid-1940's. The ultimate New York basketball player, he was called.

In the years since, through his everyday actions, he had acquired another reputation: That of a man with a zest for life and an unpretentious concern for and generosity toward people, even strangers.

He was stabbed to death Thursday, the police said yesterday, by a woman who became angry when Mr. Tanenbaum refused to give her $25. Molly Dotsun, 37 years old, of 1310 Redfern Avenue in Far Rockaway, about half a block from his shop, was arrested and charged with murder, the police said.

Described as Generous

On Nameoke Avenue in Far Rockaway, where Mr. Tanenbaum, 60, began work before dawn each day for more than 30 years, shaping metal in his squat one-story cinder block factory, and at his red brick colonial house in Woodmere, L.I., several miles east, an affectionate portrait emerged yesterday of a man who would stop whatever he was doing to inquire about a friend's health or would often give money to the needy who came into his factory in the poor neighborhood where he worked.

''You had an individual here, if you put a halo over his head, you would be right,'' said a family friend, Sheldon Gluck, 57, who played basketball every Sunday morning with Mr. Tanenbaum in North Woodmere Park.

The police said the suspect told them she wanted the money so her daughter could have a television set turned on in a room at St. John's Episcopal Hospital in Far Rockaway, where the girl is awaiting an operation for a ripped tendon in her hand.

It was the same hospital where Mr. Tanenbaum was pronounced dead after being stabbed once in the back with a butcher knife as he argued with the woman in his office at 20-09 Nameoke Avenue shortly after noon on Thursday.

''He was something of a benefactor in the area,'' said Detective Capt. Arnold Howard, commander of the 18th Detective Zone. ''For some reason he declined, which resulted in an argument and subsequent stabbing.''

A spokesman for the hospital, C. William Kimbell, said last night that a patient with the daughter's name, Evergreen Washington, had been admitted to the hospital on Thursday. He said that because the patient was under 21, he could not provide any information regarding her condition. He also said that access to the television sets in each room costs $4.25 per day and that patients must pay the full fee in advance for the entire hospital stay.

''I worked with him for 18 years,'' said his son, who is about to join the Long Beach Police Department. ''He was a person - well, he was a social worker without a company name. People would come into the shop, they were thrown out of their homes, or they would say 'I need a lawyer, I need a doctor.' He would get on the phone for hours and try to help some guy off the street even though the customers were hurrying him.''

''I ran to him and he collapsed in my arms. I held him in my arms and lowered him to the ground,'' he said. Mr. Jones got a towel from inside the shop and tried to stop the bleeding. A 'Beautiful Person'

Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Jones sat on a stone stoop of an abandoned building across the street from Artie's. He said: ''I didn't know he was a great basketball player. We'd get to talking. He was just a nice guy, just kidding around, talking. He was a good, beautiful person.''

Two and half miles east of Mr. Tanenbaum's shop, Mr. Tanenbaum's widow, Barbara, was greeting mourners in the house they had lived in for 25 years.

They recalled her husband's penchant for tennis and karate, which he had just taken up. And they spoke of his first love, basketball, which Mr. Tanenbaum seemed to enjoy most when he surprised younger players with his ability to sink 18 set shots in a row. 'Never Had Fear'

Mr. Tanenbaum began work at a metal shop owned by his wife's father, David Wolfson, after a short professional basketball career with the Knicks and the Baltimore Bullets following his graduation in 1947 from N.Y.U., where he was an all-American.

In the early 50's, the company moved to its current address in Far Rockaway. When Mr. Wolfson died, Mr. Tanenbaum took over the business.

Ever conscious of physical fitness, Mr. Tanenbaum would ride his bicycle to work in the predawn quiet along deserted streets. But as he got older and Far Rockaway deteriorated, his family feared for his safety and talked him into driving his 1977 Oldsmobile to work.

''He never had fear,'' Steven Tanenbaum said. ''He was like a man who would walk into the valley of death and had no fears.''

A version of this article appears in print on September 6, 1986, on Page 1001029 of the National edition with the headline: FOR 1940'S STAR, A VIOLENT END IN ROCKAWAY. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe